


i've learned to loathe these goddamn visions

by wreckingtomlinson



Series: breath of the wild AU [5]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Hopeful Ending, Post-Breath of the Wild, Reincarnation, at least i like to think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 12:27:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16219037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wreckingtomlinson/pseuds/wreckingtomlinson
Summary: “You know,” Liam adds, “I heard the princess recently promoted one of the members of the Royal Guard to be her personal knight.”Personal knight. The words always make Zayn’s chest feel inexplicably hollow. He’s had dreams that he can’t explain, ones that always involve a knight. He can never remember them fully, but there are a few flashes that always stand out. There’s a glowing sword; a sharp smile that makes his stomach swoop; and blue eyes. There’s always a pair of blue eyes, staring at him with such intensity that he wakes up half expecting to see someone else in his room watching him. But he always wakes up alone.~or, the literal man of Zayn's dreams isn't who Zayn thinks he is. on the other hand, maybe he's exactly who Zayn thinks he is.





	i've learned to loathe these goddamn visions

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back yet again...with more zouis...and more breath of the wild verse. no one's asking for these but i'm delivering anyway. the title comes from [visions by the maine](https://youtu.be/lUwBCApaR2Y), which i think says more about what this is going to be than i could. but if you've read [melodies and memories](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15815718/chapters/36816453), then you know how it ended. i upset myself with that so i wanted to write this to give them a little more of a hopeful future. i'd say definitely read that first before this one, but you don't have to read the others in the series. this isn't beta'ed, it's about 2am, and i'm emotional about it, so here we go!

Zayn is flying.

He soars upward, the sun blinding but he can’t stop, not now when he’s so close. He flaps once, twice, but it’s not enough; he crashes to the ground in a flurry of feathers.

Behind him, his friends snicker. “Oh, shut up, Niall,” Zayn mutters, groaning as he rolls to his feet and pokes at a sore spot on his shoulder that’s sure to bruise by nightfall. “I want to see you do better.”

Niall just tilts his head back and laughs some more. “It never works and we all know it.”

“I thought he might actually do it this time,” his other friend Liam muses. “But—”

“Boys!” a voice shrieks from down the hill. “You were supposed to come down fifteen minutes ago! The princess and her entourage are arriving in an hour!”

Liam sighs. “Guess we should go.” Zayn watches the two of them trot toward the low huts and barns, clustered at the base of the hill, that make up their small village. It’s not much, but it’s home. For now, at least.

Zayn’s always been the antsy type, always wondered what was out there beyond this village. Liam and Niall have never shared that wanderlust, both of them content to talk of farms and families and settling down where their roots are already six feet deep. They indulge him when he speaks of leaving, sure, but he doesn’t think they truly believe he ever will.

He’s not sure he believes it, either.

He collects the feathers off the ground one by one, tucking them in his pockets before he picks up the contraption he’s invented. He can’t explain why, but he’s always felt a need to fly. So he gave himself wings. It’s crude, definitely, just a wooden frame with cloth and black feathers fastened to it to imitate birds’ wings, but with each tweak, he’s getting higher, staying aloft longer. Maybe one day he’ll perfect it.

With everything gathered, he trudges home to wash up. Princess Perrie has been making her rounds to each of the villages—something to do with streamlining trade routes across Hyrule. Zayn isn’t entirely sure, nor does he particularly care.

“Zayn!” his mother admonishes once he’s stashed his wings in the barn and walked into the house. “Come on, come on, we don’t have much time.” She rushes him into the tub for a bath and makes him put on his nicest trousers and shirt. Zayn isn’t sure why it matters all that much. The princess knows this is a farming village, and she’ll really only be speaking with the village elders.

Once his mother finally lets him go, he wanders back outside to find Liam and Niall. They’re sitting on a bench just outside the general store; Niall’s got a stick and is drawing rude pictures in the dirt while Liam tries to cover them up.

“What if Princess Perrie comes by and sees that!” Liam’s gasping as Zayn walks up.

Niall looks up at him and whistles. “Hey, Malik, you clean up good.”

Zayn doesn’t even bother telling Niall to shut up, squeezing himself onto the bench to sit with them. “So, like. Why do we have to be here for this?”

"Fuck knows," Niall says. "I think we're just here to be a welcoming party. Since it's not like we'll be involved in the trade talks."

"You're telling me I don't have to be suffering in these trousers?" Zayn sighs, tugging at the leg of said trousers. He's been in them less than an hour and they already itch.

“You know,” Liam says, “I heard the princess recently promoted one of the members of the Royal Guard to be her personal knight.”

Personal knight. The words always make Zayn’s chest feel inexplicably hollow. He’s had dreams that he can’t explain, ones that always involve a knight. He can never remember them fully, but there are a few flashes that always stand out. There’s a glowing sword; a sharp smile that makes his stomach swoop; and blue eyes. There’s always a pair of blue eyes, staring at him with such intensity that he wakes up half expecting to see someone else in his room watching him. But he always wakes up alone.

“What’s that have to do with anything?” Niall wants to know, shaking Zayn out of his reverie.

“Well, if it’s true, then that means he’ll probably be with her. Maybe we’ll get to meet him.”

Niall beams at that. “That’d be sick! Hey Zayn, maybe you can ask him how to get into the Royal Guard. That’s one way to get out of here, isn’t it?”

Zayn shrugs. “Nah. Don’t like fighting. Plus, I have a feeling they wouldn’t really like me trying to learn how to fly.”

There’s a commotion at the entrance to town just then, and from the excited _oohs_ and _ahhs_ Zayn can hear from here, it has to mean the princess has arrived. He can’t blame everyone for being excited—not much happens here. Even he can’t hold back, his leg bouncing in anticipation.

“Let’s go!” Niall exclaims, jumping to his feet and tugging at Liam’s and Zayn’s hands. They give in, heading toward the front gates just in time to see the princess’s white mare walking regally through the town square. Both she and the horse are decked out in the blue and gold emblems of the royal family; Zayn had half expected to see a crown on her head. Instead, her blond hair is pulled back in a simple braid. She’s smiling, gracious with everyone who clamors for her attention.

She’s nice, he guesses. Zayn’s gaze shifts to the rider behind her, and everything stops.

His heart’s in his throat. He can’t hear the noise of the crowd, or feel Niall poking him in the arm, or see anything but the blueblue _blue_ of the eyes staring back of him.

They’re the eyes that have been haunting his subconscious. And this man, her _knight_ —he’s literally the man of his dreams.

“Zayn? Zayn? Zayn? Hello? Hi?” Niall waves a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of it. “The fuck, mate.”

“Sorry, I.” Zayn shakes his head and forces himself to look away. “I got distracted.”

“No kidding.” Niall gestures vaguely in the knight’s direction. “Don’t blame you. He’s kind of hot.”

The townspeople form something of a procession as the princess and her knight ride to the town meeting house. Zayn, Liam, and Niall hang back with the rest of the twenty-somethings who are too old to be entranced by the pair and too young to have much to offer in a conversation about trade. They meet up with Harry, the peach farmers’ son, and Michael, the teenager who’s hoping to take over his dad’s dye shop when he gets older. But as the hours pass, people start to disperse, the excitement of the princess’s arrival having dissipated already. Liam goes home, saying his mum is making his favorite spicy salmon dish and he doesn’t want to miss it, and Niall does the same soon after. Before long, Zayn’s the only one left in the square. He’s just made up his mind to head home when the meeting house door opens and out comes the princess’s knight.

Shit, he’s even more intense up close. But he’s also smaller than Zayn expected. It’s a strange thought to have as said knight is getting up in his face, studying him like a beetle under a glass.

“Can I help you?” Zayn stutters out, blinking rapidly. The knight’s eyes search his, almost like he’s looking for something. “Do we—know each other?”

The knight shakes his head, then shrugs. “You look like someone I knew. Or know. Or— I don’t know. I can’t explain it, but something in my head is telling me I should know you.”

“I’ve been having dreams about you,” Zayn blurts out, cheeks turning pink at the admission. “I mean. I can’t ever remember them all. But it’s you. It has to be you. I swear, I’m always having dreams about someone staring at me and maybe it’s a coincidence but the person in my dream has your eyes.”

The knight shakes his head again, slower this time. “Hylia above, you’ve got to be fucking with me.”

“I’m not?” Zayn furrows his brow. “Why would I?”

The knight relaxes his posture a bit, sitting down on the bench next to Zayn. He’s dressed simply, in a green tunic, but the sword and shield strapped to his back make his station clear. “I’ve been having dreams about wings. Isn’t that weird? I don’t know why. I mean, it’s not like you have wings.” He laughs unconvincingly.

And that. That’s too much to be mere coincidence. “I have wings,” Zayn tells him. The knight looks at him like he’s just announced he was actually a Bokoblin in disguise. “Well, obviously they’re not a part of my body. But I made a pair.”

“Why?”

“Always wanted to know what it would be like to fly.”

The knight keeps staring at him for a long minute. Then he sighs, glances toward the meeting house, and then looks back at Zayn. “Would you mind showing me?”

“Not at all. Come on, they’re in my barn.”

The two of them make their way to Zayn’s, down the long path to the small barn. His wings are hanging on the wall, on a hook he’d fashioned for them so they wouldn’t get stepped on or damaged. “Here they are.”

The knight’s jaw drops as he takes in the contraption. “Black. Of course,” he mutters, a hand hovering over the feathers. “May I?”

“Yeah, just be careful.” Zayn watches him curiously as the knight runs his hand lightly over the feathers.

“This is it,” the knight whispers. “These are exactly like the wings I’ve been dreaming about.”

“Why would you be dreaming about my wings? We’ve never met.”

The knight doesn’t say anything in response to that, tapping absently at the hilt of his sword as his expression turns contemplative. “Do you believe in reincarnation?” he asks after a few minutes of silent thought.

The question is jarring, and Zayn has to sit down on a bale of hay before he can form an answer. “I guess so. I mean, there’s all the stories about the hero and the princess from the legends all being reincarnations of themselves through the ages. I don’t know if that’s just, like, an extraordinary people thing.”

The knight hums contemplatively. “And do you believe people can remember things from past lives?”

“Are you saying you think our dreams have something to do with our past lives?” The unspoken question of _were we connected in a past life?_ goes unspoken.

“I don’t know what else it could be. What—what’s your name?”

“Zayn. What’s yours?” The moment the question slips out, Zayn realizes he knows the answer.

“Louis.” They say the name at the same time, and silence descends on them both.

Louis blinks. Zayn blinks back, and when he opens his eyes it feels like he’s really seeing Louis for the first time. Like everything he’s seeing is familiar, somehow. The way Louis’ hair kicks out in soft wisps over his pointed ears. The thin cut on his left cheekbone—yes, of course he injured himself there, he was always prone to. And his crystalline eyes, blue like the sky, full with a past that Zayn feels like he should know. He can’t get a grasp on a specific memory though, which is what’s driving him mad. The edges are fuzzy, and every time he tries to cling to any one detail, it all slips away again like mist.

For a few long minutes, neither of them breathe a word, just searching each other, the only sound in the barn the soft rustling of the breeze through the cracks in the roof. Zayn feels like he couldn’t breathe even if he tried.

Louis is the one to break the silence when he smiles, face bright like the autumn sun, and says, “Well, it’s about damn time.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, thank you so much for reading! come visit me on tumblr at my ~new url~ [humhalleloujah](http://humhalleloujah.tumblr.com) and you can reblog the fic post [here](http://humhalleloujah.tumblr.com/post/180045583751/ive-learned-to-loathe-these-goddamn-visions-by)


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